


The Niijima's Hermit

by Makira820



Category: Persona 5, Persona Series
Genre: F/M, Gen, Multi, shumako
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-06-01
Packaged: 2019-11-04 03:46:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17890892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Makira820/pseuds/Makira820
Summary: 10 years later, Futaba is still living with Sojiro, until a happy couple decides to step in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10 years later, Futaba is still living with Sojiro, until a happy couple decides to step in.

' _Why did I have to come here this early..._?'

Futaba yawned as she stood outside the Niijima residence at 9am. By no means early, but it was by her standards. Accompanying her was a medium sized suitcase full of clothes and a backpack filled with all of her essentials. Well, not _all_ of her essentials, as that was kind of the point of her being here.

She would be living with Akira and Makoto for the next month or so.

 

* * *

 

_Three days earlier_...

 

It was just another afternoon in Leblanc. Sojiro had just finished serving the last customer of the rush hour, leaving him drained and with ample reason to complain about his age. He thought he was finally free to take a moment's respite, before a certain gremlin yelled upon entering the cafe.

"SOJIRO!! I hunger. Curry please!" Futaba demanded as she walked into Leblanc before squatting on one of the bar seats.

Sojiro, having just sat down himself, groaned to himself before standing back up and walking to the kitchen to begin her lunch. Around the same time a familiar couple walked into the cafe. A young man knocked on the counter twice, a signal to Sojiro to inform him who he was from all the way back in the kitchen, as he had started doing in recent years.

"Oh, hey ki-" Sojiro started before seeing Akira wasn't alone. Standing beside him was his wife of two years, Makoto, smiling and waving at both Sojiro and Futaba.

"Ohhh, rare to see you two come in for lunch together." Sojiro smiled at the lovebirds.

"Well, I got an early lunch break so I thought I'd pick up my husband for a short date." Makoto leaned on her beau, planting a quick peck on his cheek. 

"So you come to this old dump for your romantic rendezvous?" Futaba joked as Sojiro prepared their usual choices of blends.

"Hey, it's nostalgic." Akira argued. 

"And the coffee is honestly the best you can find in Shibuya." Makoto added as the two found their seats at a booth. 

Sojiro couldn't stifle his laughter. "Funny you should say that. A lot of my new regulars say that _word for word_. A lot them _also_ just so happen to be cops." Sojiro said while serving their coffee.

"Ooooo, buuusteeed~" Futaba teased.

Makoto shot her quickened Niijima glare before confessing. "I-I just told them where they could get more coffee similar to the kind my husband makes." 

Sojiro smirked at Akira. "Heh, been brown-nosing the police department have you?"

Akira shrugged. "Hey, us Private Investigators are like illegitimate detectives in the eyes of the average beat cop. I need all the brownie points I can get so they don't shoo me off a crime scene."

They engaged in idle chit chat while Sojiro went back to preparing lunch for the three of them. Futaba meanwhile was currently slouched over the counter. "Sojirooo... How much longer? I'm gonna starve to death!" She whined.

"Alright, alright, it's almost done." Sojiro groaned. "You know, you could have just made something at home. You're 25 years old Futaba, you should be able to make your own meals."

"Why would I do that when I can just come here for food?" Futaba pouted with her face against the counter.

Sojiro sighed. "You know, I'm not getting any younger. Someday, maybe even soon, you're going to have to leave the nest, Futaba."

"If you're _that_ worried about croaking out on me, you could just quit smoking." Futaba pointed out. She had actually been pestering him about it a lot in recent years, usually every time he so much as coughed. He in turn always had something to say back, ranging from " _Eh, maybe_ " to " _Bite me_ " (which she did... once). But this time he was quiet for a few moments as the old gears turned, before a light bulb appeared over his head.

"Okay then, I will." Sojiro suggested with straight face. Futaba sat up straight, her eyes as wide as could be, but before she could speak, Sojiro finished his suggestion. " _If_ , you move out."

Futaba instantly slouched back over the counter. "UGGGGH, no fair! I can't do thaaat!"

Sojiro sighed as he set down a plate of curry beside her, before walking over to the booth to serve Akira and Makoto. The two had branched off the earlier coversation and were now whispering something or other between them.

Meanwhile, Futaba was aggressively inhaling her curry, half because she wasn't lying about starving and half because she was pissed at Sojiro for dropping a Merciless mode main quest on her like that. It wasn't like she _couldn't_ move out. She had the money from another mobile game she made on a whim and published under an alias, as per the suggestion of Akira. Money wasn't the issue, changing her way of life was.

In the 10 years following the final mission of the Phantom Thieves, Makoto and Akira's lives had changed dramatically. Akira ended up coming back to Shibuya a year later to attend the very same college Makoto did, both earning degrees in criminal justice with the latter also earning a master's degree in law enforcement. From there the couple diverged on their career paths.

Makoto had set her eyes on becoming a Police Commissioner from the start, and with her recent promotion to lieutenant, she was well on her way. Akira on the other hand, wanted to take a more personalized approach to making the world a little bit safer; and so he had become a Private Investigator, working under Sae's law firm as their primary legal investigator.

Somehow without impacting either of their busy lives, Makoto and Akira had kept their relationship alive and thriving all throughout college and into the early stages of their careers. They've lived together for the past five years now, being husband and wife for the last two. They had also just recently moved into a newer, larger apartment, likely with the intent of eventually expanding their little family of two.

Compared to them, Futaba's lifestyle hadn't changed much at all. She still lived in the same tiny room in the same old house. Though she hated to admit, it was actually quite convenient that she hadn't grown an inch in the last 10 years, or else her living situation might have proven difficult. She was comfortable just living in ignorance of what the future might hold. But then Sojiro would bring it up every now and then, bringing her back to reality and reminding her that she had no idea what to do with her life or even how to go about finding out without stepping _way_ outside her comfort zone.

That is, until the happy couple had finished discussing whatever it was they were whispering about...

"What if she stayed with us for a while?" Akira suggested to Sojiro. 

Both Futaba's and Sojiro's attention was instantly seized by the smiling couple.

"We _do_ have a spare room, and we'd love to have you, Futaba." Makoto added.

"What good'll that do?" Sojiro scratched the back of his head, utterly lost.

Makoto took the helm for this one. "Well, we both work fairly long hours, meaning it'd be up to her to look after herself during the day. Living in an unknown environment but with familiar faces could help her work her way up to _actually_ moving out."

Akira nodded before looking at Futaba who was currently confused as hell by the looks of it. "Like a tutorial level." He added with a smirk.

Sojiro stared for a moment before it all clicked, then looked at Futaba. "My offer still stands."

Futaba was still shocked at the proposal, yet wasn't opposed to the idea. Well, the " _actually_ _moving out_ " part was still a pretty solid ' _hell no'_ in her mind. But maybe with their help she could turn that into a ' _yeah, y'know, maybe.'_ This could be her lucky chance to finally figure her life out... and perhaps even make her mom proud of the life she leads.

She picked up her plate and shoveled the last few bites of curry into her mouth before jumping up. "AWRIGHT I'WW OO IT!" She said with stuffed cheeks.

"...Huh?" Asked the happy couple.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futaba is welcomed into the Niijima home.

_The coffee was cold._

Akira and Makoto had both taken the day off to welcome Futaba into their home and help her adjust for independent living. Akira had prepared breakfast for the three of them, accompanied of course by his "homestyle Leblanc coffee", as he put it. Makoto had made a list of goals for Futaba to accomplish, much like the one Futaba made with Akira all those years ago, as well as a separate list of emergency contacts.

Everything was ready and organized to best help Futaba along with her sudden lifestyle change, except something was clearly wrong - it was 9:30am, and Futaba was supposed to arrive at 9:00am exactly.

Panicked, Akira began walking to the door. "I'll go look for her, you stay here in case she turns up. And call-" Before he could finish Makoto was already hurriedly going through her contacts looking for Boss's number. He knew he needn't finish the sentence, so he instead put on his shoes and grabbed his keys before opening the front door to a surprising yet relieving sight.

There on the floor, for whatever reason he dared not question, laid Futaba, lightly snoring.

"Nevermind." He spoke over his shoulder.

Makoto was confused why he had called off the search so suddenly, but soon found herself beside him, looking down at the sleeping girl outside their apartment, equally befuddled.

"...We're going to have our work cut out for us." Makoto stated as Akira simply nodded.

 

* * *

 

Futaba's eyes lazily fluttered open, closed immediately after as she rubbed her eyes.

' _...glasses... where..._?'

Even in her groggy state she knew she regularly fell asleep with her glasses on, which wasn't much of an issue as she typically slept like a log. That they weren't on her face meant that either they fell off or someone removed them in her sleep, likely Sojiro.

"Sojiro... where are my glasses...?" She mumbled loudly, sitting up as she rubbed the sleepiness out of her eyes. Then she realized.

 '... _wait. This isn't my bed... This isn't my room! WHERE AM I_?!'

Her eyes sprang open as she tried to look around, her nearsightedness betraying her attempt to get her bearings. Though her eyes failed her, her ears worked fine. Fine enough to hear the knock on the door, followed by the slow turning of the doorknob. In one sloppy yet swift motion, Futaba was on the floor and under the bed where she curled up in the fetal position and prayed her abductor would leave the door open for her to make her escape.

On the verge of a panic attack and fighting back an onslaught of tears, Futaba watched as blurry pair of black and white feet entered the room. Futaba squinted at the feet, something seemed oddly familiar about the design on her kidnapper's socks. They almost resembled... _pandas_?

"...Futaba?" Makoto broadly questioned as she searched the room.

Futaba felt a wave of relief wash over her. "I-I'm down here." She said as she poked her head out from under the bed.

Makoto's attention was brought down to the floor where Futaba smiled sheepishly up at her. "...And you're under the bed because...?"

"I-IdidntknowwhereIwasandIgotscaredsoIhidand-" Futaba rushed to explain before being cut off by Makoto, who was kneeling down to put her glasses back on her face. Futaba blinked a few times, taking in the surroundings of their guest room.

"There. Not so scared anymore, are you?" Makoto smiled down at gremlin at her feet.

Futaba didn't know why, but there was warmth in Makoto's smile, it was oddly comforting, and it calmed her right down.

"No." She replied, followed by her own question. "So wait, where the heck am I?"

Makoto tilted her head. "Our apartment? We agreed you'd be staying here for a while. Do you not remember coming here this morning?"

Futaba had pulled her entire self from under the bed, and was presently sitting on the floor trying to recollect the prior events that led her here.

She had all of her things packed last night, though she had to drop a few things after Sojiro said she couldn't bring her mini fridge. This morning she begrudgingly woke up at 8am like some sort of old fart, skipped breakfast as Sojiro had informed her that Akira would be preparing breakfast at their place, and then she was out the door. She hacked into the city's underground surveillance network and studied the movement of the crowds; sadly discovering that there was no less crowded option that would lead her to the Niijima residence, meaning she'd have to fight them head on. And she did, but it was too physically and mentally exhausting for the girl. When she finally arrived at their apartment number, she could barely keep her eyes open, and then...

"Ohhhhhhh..." Futaba realized. "Sorry, guess I was too under leveled for the mob boss that is early commuters. I conked out when I got here."

Makoto shook her head with remorse. "No, I'm sorry. We should have known the morning crowds would be a tall order for you. I should have picked you up myself."

Before Futaba could respond, the sound of a low pitch rumble filled the room. Simultaneously both she and Makoto look towards her stomach.

"Oh, right. You're hungry, aren't you?" Makoto asked. Futaba nodded in admission.

"Well then, if you'd follow me." Makoto said as she exited the room. Futaba couldn't help but snicker at her fuzzy Buchimaru socks as she walked behind her.

They walked down the hall, until they reached the kitchen, which opened up to both the dining and living areas, all having a very western contemporary feel. The kitchen alone was fairly large, wrapped around an island with bar seats on one side.

' _Holy cow, how much grinding did they have to do for this place_?!' Futaba pondered.

Hidden behind the open refrigerator door, Akira poked his head out to greet their newly awoken guest. "Hey, thought you were up. Hungry?"

Before Futaba could reply, Makoto spoke up. "You absolutely _must_ try his pancakes. Trust me, he gets the fluffiness _just_ right." She stated in confidence.

Akira rubbed the back of his neck. "I mean, I try." He grinned before Makoto draped her arms over his shoulders, leaning in and lovingly placing her lips upon his.

Futaba, slightly uncomfortable watching this bizarre display of affection from Makoto, spoke up amidst their light face sucking. "U-Uh... pancakes sound great." 

"You got it." Akira broke the kiss then made his way back to fridge to fetch the ingredients.

Makoto meanwhile guided Futaba to their living room. "Here." She handed Futaba a sheet of paper as they sat down on the couch. "I trust these goals are doable?"

Futaba looked at her with a quizzical expression. "You made a Promise List?"

Makoto nodded. "That's right. I thought maybe it'd be a little bit easier for you if we present your goals through a medium you're more familiar with."

Futaba looked at the list and began reading it aloud.

" _1\. Be able to prepare your own meals_."

Futaba looked at Akira in the kitchen, then back to Makoto, a little confused. 

"We'll make breakfast and dinner, it'll be up to you to make your lunch." Makoto clarified.

"Ohhh." Futaba nodded in understanding, then continued reading.

" _2\. Appropriate the idea of regularly going outside._ "

Futaba flung her head back and groaned.

"I know, I know. But you should really give it some thought. We can help you with that one." Makoto offered. Futaba went on.

" _3\. Consider possible career options_."

Futaba looked at Makoto, once again confused. "The heck do I need to keep grinding for? I got all the G I need."

"Having a job adds a sense of stability to your livelihood. It may also help coax you into becoming more sociable as a result." Makoto explained.

Futaba thought for second, trying to mentally rephrase what she said. "Ohhhh. So in other words, I'm grinding EXP in the same place I'd farm G but the extra G is just gravy in this case?"

Makoto raised her eyebrow, then looked at Akira who was currently at an intermission between pancake flips. "Yeah she gets it." He assured her.

"...Alright then." Makoto was still lost on her RPG lingo, but thankfully her husband was an adequate translator. "And the last goal, Futaba?"

Futaba looked back to the paper.

" _4\. Be... happy with your life changes_?"

Futaba stared at the page, then looked up at Makoto, who only smiled at her. "Huh? That's the last goal?" She asked.

"Exactly. The most important goal above all else is that you're comfortable and happy with your new life. Thats all we want for you, Futaba."

Makoto's word's struck deep, tapping into a reservoir of emotion Futaba hadn't felt in a long time. Looking at Makoto, seeing her warm smile, acknowledging her genuine concern for her well being... It reminded her of her mother in a way. She couldn't keep the tears from forming in her eyes, much less keep them from spilling out.

"H-Hey, what's the matter?" Makoto asked, worried as she involuntarily scooted closer to Futaba. 

"I-It's n-nothing!" Futaba stuttered. "I-It's... I-I... u-uh..." She couldn't find the words to explain why she was crying, so she wrapped her arms around Makoto, much to both of their surprise. Makoto, though shocked at first, simply returned the hug. Both of them unaware of Akira standing behind the couch.

"...Soooo, pancakes?" Akira asked, hating to ruin the moment. On the contrary, the promise of food in the hungry girl's ear was exactly what she needed to snap her out of it. She broke the hug to look to Akira, who gestured towards the table where the most _beautiful_ stack of pancakes she'd ever laid eyes upon stood. She practically ran to the table before taking the cutlery into her hands and attacking the once proud tower of hot cake and syrup-y goodness.

Akira meanwhile had taken her spot on the couch next to his wife. Noticing a slight look of doubt in her expression, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear.

"Don't worry, we can do this. And so can she." He assured her.

Makoto looked at him and smiled. "Yes, I believe she can as well." She agreed before returning her focus to their ravenous guest going to town on her pancake.

"Although... perhaps we should add table manners to the list."


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Futaba vs. the Niijima's kitchen

_The next morning..._

"Are you sure she'll be alright all on her own today? Maybe we should-"

Her worries and her words were cut off by her husband's lips on her own. Surprised at first, she eased into his embrace before breaking the soothing smooch.

"...I'm doing it again, aren't I?"

Smiling, Akira brought a follow-up kiss to her cheek. "Yeah, it's super cute though."

For the remainder of yesterday, they had made sure Futaba had everything she needed. Makoto had made sure at least a dozen sticky notes with her list of emergency contacts were scattered throughout their home. Akira meanwhile ensured that Futaba understood the basics of food preparation, taking her on as his sous-chef when dinner time came. Everything was going fine, there wasn't anything in her behavior to suggest she'd have trouble at least _surviving_ on her own.

This morning, however, was a different story. They woke her up after a _lot_ of coaxing on their part as she most certainly wasn't used to being awake at 7:00am. Akira made their meal alone this time, what with Futaba being unable to form a semi-coherent sentence let alone assist him in the kitchen. She ate her breakfast, slowly and quietly, her eyes barely open as she brought each bite to her mouth. If not for Makoto's quick reflexes, Futaba would have fallen out of her chair at the table, which she actually doubted would have been much of a hindrance to her going back to sleep. After she was done, she mumbled something that could perhaps be interpreted as gratitude, then shuffled her way back to her room.

While Akira simply shrugged it all off as Futaba not being a morning person, the seeds of worry that had taken root in Makoto's conscience had suddenly blossomed into doubts. She was up late into the night, thinking about every scenario in which things could go wrong. She just couldn't help herself, the undying team advisor in her wouldn't allow her to _not_ come up for a solution to every problem that may come to pass. If not for her husband's expert-level back massages, she likely wouldn't have gotten any sleep at all last night. As good a back rub as it was, it didn't work proactively to calm her mind as she now found herself with a new worry...

"You go on ahead, I'll be down in an few minutes. I forgot something _really_ important." Makoto stopped in her tracks as they were making their way out the front door.

Not one to argue, Akira simply took Makoto's briefcase and began his stroll down to the parking garage alone. He didn't mind at all, they had plenty of time, being the early birds they were. She'd be joining him soon enough to give him a ride to the train station on her motorcycle, a very welcome excuse to wrap his arms around her for 10 straight minutes every morning.

Makoto meanwhile had made her way back to their kitchen to solve her worrisome dilemma.

* * *

 

_Grrrrrhhm..._

_Grrrrrrrrhhhhmm..._

_GRRRRRRRR-_

"OKAY! I'M AWAKE!" Futaba violently kicked her blanket off in a huff.

Few things could wake Futaba from her slumber, but her stomach growling was definitely the most efficient culprit.

' _Why the heck am I hungry again, even? I just ate like 5 minut-...'_

She looked over to the nightstand where an alarm clock stood. Displayed in bright text was the time: _12:00pm._

_'...5 hours ago. Yeah, I guess that makes sense...'_

Lacking all enthusiasm, she rolled out of bed and stretched as she left her room. Usually when she was hungry, there'd be this fire in her, seeking out sustenance as she ripped open a bag of munchies or asked/ordered Sojiro to make her some food. She began to recall _the list_ right as she entered the kitchen, but still she had to try and take the easy route.

"SOJI- _oh right._ AKIRA! I hunger!"

No response. A quick survey of the living area told her that which she already knew: she was completely alone.

"Eh, worth a shot."

If she wanted to eat anytime before 5:00pm when Makoto and Akira get home, it was up to _her_ to prepare food. _Tedious,_ but that was the point. Well, _their_ point. If she had it her way she would have called this entire side quest cleared after helping with dinner. She knew _how_ to cook, years of watching Sojiro with her photographic memory granted her that much. She just never _wanted_ to because cooking was a less important skill to level up since there's always someone else around to do it inste-

_GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR...!_

_"_ Uggggghh, fine! I'll _cook_ something like some sort of _wench._ " She angrily looked down at her stomache, which seemed to have quieted down upon her surrender.

Makoto and Akira were very clear on the specifications of cooking _,_ and that they did not include her simply heating up water on the microwave and pouring it on instant yakisoba. Something about it being a " _terribly unbalanced diet_ " according to Makoto. To pass this goal, Futaba was to actually prepare a home cooked meal. To make things easier, they decided it would be something Futaba was all too familiar with: Leblanc curry.

Akira walked her through the basics of kitchen safety the night before. She washed her hands, put her apron on and tied hair in a ponytail, though how he knew to tell her to put her hair up was a mystery to her since this was a short hair household.

She _vaguely_ knew the process of cooking Leblanc curry, but didn't know the exact ingredients as Sojiro typically had all the veggies and such chopped up and stored in the fridge for shorter prep time. Thankfully, Akira was kind enough to leave a recipe sheet on the kitchen counter with the exact ingredients. They were:

**_ Roux _ **

5 tbsp unsalted butter

½ cup flour

3 Tbsp garam masala, ground

1 Tbsp turmeric, ground

1 tsp coriander, ground

½ tsp fennel, ground

½ tsp fenugreek seeds, ground

¼ tsp cinnamon, ground

¼ tsp allspice, ground

1 tsp cayenne pepper, ground

2 Tbsp tomato paste

3 Tbsp tonkatsu sauce

2 Tbsp honey

_ **Curry** _

2 tsp vegetable oil

4 lbs chicken thighs, cut into bite sized pieces

2 tsp garam masala, ground

1 onion, diced

½ red onion, diced

2 garlic cloves, minced

5 carrots, peeled and cut into bite sized pieces

3 russet potatoes, peeled and cut into bite sized pieces

1 apple, finely grated

1 tsp salt

1 tsp black pepper

4 cups chicken stock

1 cup water

2 bay leaves

15 grams dark chocolate

½ cup greek yogurt

**_Additional Ingredients_ **

½-¾ cup cooked rice, per serving

 

"..."

"..."

"HOLY COW THAT'S A LOT OF WORK!"

Futaba had never even cut a potato before, let alone _dice_ an onion. The most culinary acts she had participated in in the past 10 years were actually during the crash course Akira gave her last night, and everything she actually did on her own was with a _spoon._ There was _no way_ she could jump straight to this. She was about to raid the kitchen for anything somewhat edible, hell she'd eat raw flour at this point if she had to, but then she noticed a small note at the bottom of the recipe sheet in Akira's handwriting.

" _Futaba_

_I realize that right out of the gate, it may be a bit much to ask you to make a roux, handle raw meat or even dice an onion, so I went ahead and did all that. It's all on the bottom shelf in the fridge. All you have to do is exactly what you've seen Sojiro doing all these years. I'll show you how to do all the prep work later, okay?_

_P.S. Fire extinguisher is under the sink."_

If she wasn't starving and somewhat lazy, she'd be insulted by the low-key condescending nature of the note. Instead she was _famished_ and very much so a sloth, so she felt only gratitude in him holding her hand through this culinary crisis.

' _That's my pseudo-bro...!'_

She rushed to the fridge, and sure enough, on the bottom shelf were stacked several tupperwares containing everything she needed. Already cooked chicken, a brown sludge she assumed to be the _roux,_ and yes, a _perfectly_ diced onion. One by one she removed the tupperwares and placed them on the counter next to the stove. But now she was faced with another problem.

She had never used a stove before.

She knew there were 2 basic types of stoves: Electric-type and Fire-type. The Electric-type typically had a flat surface, or one of those swirly things that turn bright red when heated. Such was the type they had at Leblanc. It was a little worse for wear and she was pretty sure Sojiro kicked it once, but it got the job done. This was a _nice_ kitchen, however. It had equally nice appliances, which included the Fire-type _gas_ stove in front of her.

Cautiously, she turned the bottom-left dial as she saw Akira do the night before. She didn't hear it the first time as they were having a debate over the health benefits of eating 15 bowls of instant yakisoba per week, but she most definitely heard it this time.

_CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. CLICK. CLICK._

"W-Woah, what?! Why is it clicking?! Did I break it?! AM I GONNA DIE-oh."

Upon frantically turning it a little further, the clicking stopped and she was welcomed by a light-blue ring of flames.

' _Pssh, I knew that would happen._ ' She lied in her head.

She took a "right looking" pot from the cabinet and sat it on the ignited burner. With perhaps a little too much vegetable oil, she began adding the curry ingredients.

' _First the onions and... yellow stuff? Garlic? Is that garlic? Eh, whatever._ '

She added the diced onions and _grated apples_ to the pot, then stared at it as if having an existential crisis in her late 50s, as was Sojiro's process.

' _Okay, now the chicken._ '

Ordinarily the chicken was raw, but seeing as it was already cooked she decided to speed things up a little.

' _Next the filler characters..._ '

She dumped the potatoes, carrots and _minced garlic_ into the pot.

' _And now... the curry juices_ _._ '

She was of course referring to the water and chicken stock. She poured both into the waiting pot and put the lid over it. She knew it was supposed to boil before adding the roux, but really thats more of a _suggestion_ all things considered. Nothing here could kill her, if she wanted to she could have just eaten it all out of the tupperware. Instead she was cooking it like a proper _chef,_ and really "cooking" was just the act of heating up food until it was safe to eat. Judging by the steam coming from the pot, it was most definitely _hot-ish_.

' _Alright_ _that's fine. Now for the magic goo~_ _'_

She opened the lid not even 5 minutes later and added the roux... all at once. She didn't know that the reason _why_ Sojiro used a ladle to mix it into the curry one scoop at a time was that it needed to properly mix with the broth. _Slowly._ She then began stirring the curry with a wooden spoon in circular motions around the edge of the pot, causing the mixure to wad up in a ball of undercooked veggies, burnt apples and chilled roux in the center beneath the murky broth's surface.

' _And now the dark chocolate and... greek yogurt?_ '

Futaba thought for a moment. She had seen Sojiro make this curry plenty of times, and never did he scoop out some yogurt into the pot. He _did_ however, add milk.

' _Oooooo, Master Chef Akira made a mistake with the recipe._ ' She would definitely rub that in later.

She took the yogurt and put it back into the fridge, instead taking out the milk. She waited for the chocolate to somewhat melt in the now boiling mixture, then poured what felt "close enough" to ½ cup of milk, but was actually closer to a full cup. With the lid back on top, she gave it some time to simmer.

"This cooking thing is _suuuper_ easy. Finna max out this stat before the weekend.

She was beginning to feel a sense of pride in her abilities. Suddenly she understood completely why Akira took such an interest in the culinary arts. She may have had help, but it was her who took all these ingredients and made them into an actual dish. It was fulfilling _, a_ nd soon she'd be _filling_ herself with some yummy curry. Or so she thought...

Her boasting was interrupted by the sight of the pot boiling over from beneath the lid.

"SHIT, SHIT, SHIT!"

She immediately turned the dial all the way off, afraid that whatever was transpiring within the pot would combust into a deathly inferno should the white bubbles reach the flames. Thankfully the bubbles receded back into the pot once she removed the lid. What she saw in the pot however, was not the "curry" she knew and loved.

Some sort of white clumps floated at the surface, giving off an _awful_ stench. Inexperienced though she was, Futaba knew what spoiled milk was. What she didn't know was how the milk she added to the curry had spoiled. She pulled the milk back out of the fridge to double check the expiration date only to discover that it was still good for another week.

' _Maybe I just have to... stir?_ '

Bad idea. All it did was release additional stank into her poor gremlin nostrils.

' _Maybe it... tastes different than it smells?_ '

_Worse_ idea. As her tongue met the wooden spoon carrying the questionable curry contents, she was met with an extremely _off_ sour flavor. Definitely _not_ Leblanc curry. She barely made it to the sink before spitting it out and spraying high pressure water into her mouth with the hose faucet.

"Ghulufgulgluhublufg- _BLEH_! THIS TASTES AWFUL!"

Angrily, she took out her phone and opened her direct chat with Akira.

...

...

...

"uhhhh HELLO?? YOU TRYNA KILL ME?"

">:["

...

...

...

She didn't have to wait long for an answer, Akira had a habit of being on his phone at work.

...

...

...

**Akira** : "?????"

">:E"

"The recipe was WRONG so I added milk like Sojiro does and it tastes super nasty"

**Akira** **:** "You're not supposed to add milk, you're supposed to add greek yogurt."

"Uhh no?? I've literally watched him add milk every time"

"(๑•̀ㅁ•́๑)"

****Akira**** **:** "It's greek yogurt."

"No it isn't"

****Akira**** : "Yes it is."

"No it's NOT"

**Akira** : "It IS."

"NO IT'S-"

"Y'know what?"

**Sojiro Sakura** has joined the chat!

"SOJIRO"

"DO YOU ADD MILK OR YOGURT TO THE CURRY??"

"check your phone you geezer"

**Sojiro** : "What?"

"MILK"

"OR"

"YOGURT"

"?"

"`•̀益•́´"

**Sojiro** : "It's yogurt."

"WHAT"

**Akira** : "Told you."

**Sojiro** : "If you pour milk into boiling water it curdles."

"BUT I WATCHED YOU ADD MILK"

**Sojiro** : "I mix the yogurt with the water so it has the consistency of buttermilk. It mixes with the chicken stock faster. You're probably thinking about that.

"WHAT KIND OF SORCERY IS THIS"

**Akira** : "That kind of kills the acidity if you add it with the water. It's better to add it at the end for a richer flavor profile."

**Sojiro** : "I run a backstreet coffee shop, not a five star restaurant."

"Ok whatever but what do I do with this ruined curry??"

"I'm staaarving"

"˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚"

**Akira** : "Alright, my lunchbreak is in a hour. I'll come home, fix you something to eat and clean up the abominable curry."

**Akira** : "Just put the pot in the sink and DO NOT try to pour it out, it'll just clog the drain."

"Okay..."

...

...

...

It was safe to say Futaba's first solo cooking adventure had ended in failure. It took her last remaining energy to move the pot of _death curry_ across the kitchen and into the sink. Completely spent, she shambled to the fridge to search for something to munch on. The Niijima's were healthy people, surely they had fruit or something. Not her go-to for snacks, but beggers can't be choosers. Well, apparently they _can_ because she found something way better than an apple.

At the back of the middle shelf, behind where the tupperwares once stood, was a neatly wrapped sandwich. A _katsu sando_. She had wondered what happened to last night's leftover pork cutlet, apparently this is what became of it. It was beautiful and clearly made with the utmost care. A tinge of regret came over Futaba as reached for it, this was clearly breaking the first promise on the list. She knew she shouldn't touch other people's food, but she was _famished_. Such hunger outweighed her conscience entirely upon reading the note on top of the sandwich.

" _Futaba_

_Please try to make something on your own before searching for something more immediate. This is just in case something unforeseen happens on your first day. We can't have you go hungry, can we?_

_-Makoto"_

Futaba didn't need to be told twice. Before she even closed the fridge, she unwrapped the sandwich and took a satisfying chomp out of the katsu sando. Even in her frenzied carnivorous state, she had to appreciate Makoto's superb craftsmanship.

It was _delicious._

* * *

 

_On the other side of town..._

Makoto was all set and ready for her lunchbreak. She had thought about meeting her husband for lunch, but according to his texts a few minutes prior, he had a situation to deal with at home. Nothing serious, he assured her, just a kitchen mishap. Still, she worried. She was about to hop on her bike and head home to make sure everything was okay when she received another text, but this time from Futaba.

...

...

...

**Futaba** : "thank you<3<3 o(╥﹏╥)"

...

...

...

Makoto smiled.

Her newly acquired intuition served her well this morning.


End file.
